by Robert Gonko
been pretty tough to deal with. It was bad enough losing Dad so suddenly.”
“I can understand that,” Sam said. His adoptive parents had both died unexpectedly, though several years apart. It was something Sam didn't think he'd ever really get over.
“I never expected to find out that I have another brother, or half-brother,” Nick said. “I had my doubts until I got a look at you. You look more like Dad than any of us.”
Before Sam could reply to that, his cell phone rang again. He answered without checking the ID, quickly regretting the oversight. As soon as the caller identified himself, Sam hung up.
“Who was it?” Tracie asked.
“Some guy from the Register,” he said. “He knows all about it.”
FOUR
John Pullman, special assignments reporter for The Port Mason Register, drove down Knox Avenue towards the Harman residence. He'd received an anonymous phone tip about Sam's unexpected windfall. After Sam hung up on Pullman, the reporter decided this might be interesting enough to pursue.
His interest turned to irritation when he discovered he wasn't the only one who'd been tipped off. Two TV trucks were parked in front of the house. He parked across the street and went to the front door, running into a reporter from one of the local radio stations. “No good,” she said. “They won't answer the door.”
“Is anyone even here?” Pullman asked.
“I saw a couple of kids running around inside.”
Pullman went to the house next door. An older man stood on the porch.. “Excuse me,” he said. “I'm John Pullman, with the Register. Do you know where Mr. and Mrs. Harman are?”
“I saw them get into that limo a while ago,” the man said.
“Limo?” Pullman asked. The man nodded. Holy shit, he thought to himself. It's true!
The babysitter called Sam as soon as the first reporter came to the door. He instructed Marcie not to answer it for anyone unless she personally recognized them. His next call was to the police, who were skeptical about his story but agreed to send a car by to check it out.
“We've got to get the kids out of there,” Tracie said.
“Maybe we can have them sneak out the back door and go to Marcie's house,” Sam mused aloud. “They might not be seen from the front.”
“I want them away from the neighborhood, Sam,” his wife said.
Sam thought about it a bit, but had no ideas on how to get the kids out without them being mobbed by the press. Then he realized he didn't have to, he knew someone who could think up that sort of thing for him.
John Pullman stood by his car, wondering what to do next. Nobody would answer the door and nobody knew where the Harmans had gone. Staying here seemed like a waste of time, but he didn't know where else to turn. Neither did the other reporters.
A blue Ford Mustang that looked like it had seen better days slowly approached the house. Pullman watched as it backed into the Harman driveway. Something about that car looked familiar. The curious reporter walked towards it.
Pullman understood a second too late. The entry door next to the main garage door opened and three children ran out as the Mustang's passenger door flew open. The kids jumped into the car as the assembled press realized what was happening and rushed to intercept.
The Mustang's engine roared and with a squealing of tires, it tore out of the driveway. It went right past Pullman, nearly hitting the reporter but also allowing him to get a good look at the driver. “Dammit Steve!” he shouted as the car sped down Knox Avenue and out of sight.
Twenty minutes later, Sam Jr., Kristen and Noah entered the Presidential suite, much to the relief of their parents. They were accompanied by a tall, lean man with dark hair and a goatee. “Dad!” Sam Jr. said. “You should have seen it!”
“We went really fast!” Noah exclaimed.
“It was fun,” Kristen said.
“It was awesome!” Sam Jr. added. “We peeled out of the driveway!”
“You weren't supposed to tell them that part,” the tall man chided, with a smile. “Sorry if I left a mark on your driveway.”
“Don't worry about it,” Sam said. “Thanks for getting them out of there.”
“Yes,” Tracie said, hugging Kristen. “Thank you so much.”
“My pleasure,” the man replied.
“This is Steve Bennett,” Sam explained. “He's the private investigator I mentioned earlier.”
Sam started to introduce the visitors from Texas but his eldest beat him to it, correctly identifying Sallie and Nick. Sam Jr. explained that while his parents were gone, he'd taken to the Internet to research the Curtis family.
“You're a smart young man,” Sallie said, smiling for the first time since Sam and Tracie walked in the door. “How old are you?”
“Eleven,” Sam Jr. said.
“And you children?” she asked the others.
“I'm seven,” Kristen said.
“I'm five,” Noah said.
“They're adorable,” Sallie said.
“Thank you,” their parents said.
“Okay Dad,” Sam Jr. said. “How much?”
Braddock chuckled. “Cuts right to the chase, doesn't he?”
“Did you get a million dollars, Daddy?” Noah asked.
“Uh…more than that,” Sam said. “We'll talk about the details later.”
“How did the press find out?” Sam Jr. asked.
“That's a good question,” Sam replied. “I'd like to know the answer to that myself.”
“I'll have Dad lean on Pullman,” Steve said, explaining that his father was the newspaper's city editor.
“Can we move to the country, by Grandma and Grandpa?” Kristen asked, referring to Tracie’s parents. She loved their place, which was about thirty miles west of Port Mason, and had frequently asked if they could move out there.
“That’s one of the things Mom and I have to talk about,” Sam said. “We’ll definitely be moving, but as for where…I’m not too sure yet.”
“Daddy,” Noah said. “I like our house.”
“I know,” Sam said. “But you’ll like a new house even better, I promise.”
“Can I have a new Beyblade?” Noah asked.
Sam and Tracie laughed. “Not today,” Tracie said. Noah asked for a new Beyblade toy at least twice a week. It was clear that he didn’t understand, but they hadn’t really expected him to.
“But I want a new Beyblade,” Noah protested.
Sam and Tracie laughed again. Kristen looked at Noah crossly. “Will you stop talking about your stupid Beyblade?” she demanded.
“It’s not stupid!” Noah shouted.
“Ugh,” Kristen groaned. “You see what I have to put up with?”
“What you have to put up with?” Sam Jr. said. “I have to share a room with him.”
“Takes you back, doesn't it Mama?” Nick said.
“Sure does,” Sallie replied. “Why don't y'all stay for lunch? We can hash some things out.”
The Harmans agreed and lunch was ordered. Sam was starting to feel a little better about this. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing, after all.
Later that afternoon, a call was made using a prepaid, and untraceable, cell phone. “Yes?” a young man's voice said.
“I need a full report on a private investigator by the name of Steve Bennett.”
“On it” was the reply. “Anything else?”
“Arrange to have Stu intercept Harman when he comes to Houston. He needs a little scare thrown into him.”
Hank Curtis' murderer ended the call and smiled in satisfaction. Harman's existence was certainly a surprise, but in the long run he was nothing more than a bump in the road. The goal was in sight.
FIVE
The Curtis family's Gulfstream V jet circled over Houston as it awaited clearance for its final approach to Ellington International Airport. Sam tried to relax but his nerves were shot. The last five days had been insane. He f
elt like he was under siege with no way to break out of it.
Since that first meeting with Braddock, he'd been hounded by press, politicians, con artists, old 'friends,' women claiming to be his birth mother, and a group of protesters who seemed to be angry at him, though he wasn't entirely sure why.
He had done two things that brought him great pleasure. On Monday morning he went to his bank and paid off his mortgage and car loans. After that he went to Downen & Lowe, cleaned out his desk, and quit. He was burning a bridge but he didn't care.
He had yet to hear from either his cousin or his ex-wife. Ted wasn't a real concern, yet. He'd been known to drop off the radar for months at a time. Sam would hear from him sooner or later. Becky was another matter. When she turned up there would be trouble.
The trip to Houston was an attempt to head off a legal confrontation with Bill and Jerry Curtis who were threatening legal action over the terms of their father's will. Sam flew down with Steve Bennett and his new lawyer. Aaron Charlton was a senior partner at Leonard and Spengler, the city's most prestigious law firm. Anderson Braddock had suggested him.
The plane landed and taxied to the Curtis family hangar, where a limo was waiting. Once they were on the road, Steve took a metal box out of his travel bag, entered a combination, and took out his gun.
“Are you expecting trouble?” Charlton asked.
“Always,” the private investigator replied. Steve hadn't been able to find out who had tipped the press off about Sam's inheritance and thought some poking around in Houston might help resolve that. Sam had to admit he felt better with his friend by his side. “Maybe it's time I got one of those” he said, indicating the weapon.
“I'm a little